Essays in Infatuation
by panneler-san
Summary: "What's wrong with me?" she whispered. Luna said quietly, "The same thing that's wrong with me." A story told in drabbles.
1. Full Moon Crisis

A/N: A new tale, told in bits and pieces. This plot is making itself up. I have no say in its direction; it's guiding me by the hand into a dark room.

Full Moon Crisis

Perhaps it was the full moon that made Hermione Granger, for one blissful moment, completely and utterly deranged.

She'd never read much into silly superstitions; her complete dismissal of Divination taught by Professor Trelawney (the old hag) was a decision she was comfortable with and had never regretted. She'd made her choice to abdicate the required class purely out of spite for the ridiculous notion that one's fate rested in hands other than their own.

How foolish a sentiment, how ludicrous an idea!

It had been three years since she had quit the class based off those reasons, and now, well, she was gladly eating her words. There _had_ to be an explanation for this sort of behavior. There _must've_ been some reason this wasn't her fault.

After six long, agonizing seconds, Hermione pulled her lips away from Luna Lovegood's with a gasp.

Luna maintained blank eye contact and didn't move, not even to breathe.

She didn't know what to do. She was confused and alarmed at her own behavior; it was like whatever had possessed her to do such a thing wasn't even _herself_. Luna's silvery grey eyes stared into her in either shock or anger, she didn't know.

It was all she could do to stand quickly up, mumble, "I _told_ you," and dash away around the lake, leaving Luna behind.

Hermione didn't stop running until she was face down on her four-poster in the Gryffindor girl's dormitory.

A/N:

Next: Two Weeks Earlier

… … …

" _Scientists say that the brain chemistry of infatuation is akin to mental illness — which gives new meaning to 'madly in love'" – Love_ byLauren Slater, National Geographic, 2006


	2. Two Weeks Earlier

A/N: Installment two.

Two Weeks Earlier

"Luna."

The oversized lion on her blond head roared, spraying something that felt suspiciously like spittle all over Hermione's face.

Eyes shut in frustration, she calmly wiped whatever the wet stuff was off her cheeks with the corner of her sleeve. For a short moment she couldn't help but be fascinated; the lion hat must have required some very high-level charm work. And was this spit _real_? Disgusting. Yet, impressive. "Luna," she said again.

Luna herself looked up from her spot at the Ravenclaw table and smiled airily at her. "Oh, good morning, Hermione." The innocently clueless look in her eyes made the Gryffindor sigh.

"You _do_ remember that at the last Quidditch match a first year with a weak heart passed out and nearly fell off the bleachers after your lion roared at him?"

Glancing over her shoulder showed the upside-down Quibbler in her small hands. If Hermione looked closely, she could see the title of the article: _Madame Zelda's Next Big Thing: Have Crumple-Horned Snorkaks been Spotted in Northern Britain?_ Luna blinked and tilted her head. "I do seem to recall some sort of commotion,"

"And you remember that Professor McGonagall has since banned your hat?"

There was a long silence. Finally, Luna smiled brightly. "Has she?"

"Yes! And it's my duty as a Prefect to-"

The lion roared in her face, swaying dangerously atop Luna's head. She barely had time to close her eyes before a fistful of mystery-spit hit her in the face.

She hoped it wasn't real.

A/N:

Previous: Full Moon Crisis

Next: Gryffindor vs Slytherin

" _Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye."_ \- H. Jackson Brown, Jr.


	3. Gryffindor VS Slytherin

A/N: The third installment.

Gryffindor VS Slytherin

The entire stadium screamed when Harry Potter dove down lightning-quick on his _Firebolt_ and grabbed hold of the golden snitch. Distinctly, the earth-shattering roar of a lion rumbled in Hermione's ears and the spectators erupted into applause.

Draco Malfoy landed on the Quidditch pitch grass and threw his broomstick down into the mud in anger. Ron pointed and laughed from his position hovering by the goal post. Luna's lion hat roared again, and Hermione cringed when she saw Professor McGonagall's face from across the stadium, lips pressed into a most displeased, thin line. She already knew what the elderly woman would say concerning Luna Lovegood, and she dreaded the lecture.

Hearing about her own incompetence always set her heart racing, and then the hyperventilation set in. She hated this, but she had to do it. Not even Gryffindor's win could pacify her. With a heavy heart, she set out to find Luna.

The girl was by the greenhouses, talking to some impressed-looking first years who wanted very much to touch the huge lion on top of her head.

She swallowed. "Luna."

She turned, radish earrings swinging heavily around her cheeks. "Hullo again, Hermione," she said dreamily. The first years gulped at the sight of her and took off running. Hermione felt hurt; was she really that scary?

"I have to give you detention," she sighed. "I don't want to, but Professor McGonagall will be breathing down my neck, and you really _shouldn't_ have worn the hat today, it was banned, and we have rules for a reason, and-"

"I understand," she interrupted.

Hermione blinked, "You do?"

"Why, of course," she said, smiling. "A detention is a small price to pay for supporting the triumph of good over the empire of impending evil."

She loosely associated "good" with Gryffindor and the "empire of impending evil" with Slytherin. It wasn't even a qualifying match for the House Cup. How odd. She shook her head. "That's brave of you, Luna. How were you not sorted into Gryffindor?"

"How were _you_ not sorted into Ravenclaw?" she asked airily, smiling brightly at her as she pulled the roaring lion from her head.

 _Touché_.

A/N:

Previous: Two Weeks Earlier

Next: An Evening Scrubbing Slime

" _Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_ " – Rowena Ravenclaw, J.K Rowling, _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_


	4. An Evening Scrubbing Slime

A/N: Installment number four.

An Evening Scrubbing Slime

As her punishment for not being able to stop Luna from wearing her hat to the match, Hermione was set to the task of watching over her detention. She was mortified: running the detention and going to it was practically the same thing.

She waved a sad goodbye to Harry and Ron in the Great Hall as her dinner cut short, and left for Slughorn's office. He'd sent her a little note at breakfast that morning detailing what he would like Luna to do, and invited both of them to his next Slug Club meeting.

She cringed at the thought.

Luna was already there by the time she arrived, smiling dreamily at her surroundings. When Hermione entered, she nodded happily. "Hullo," she said. "Why did you leave dinner early?"

"Because _you_ need supervision," Hermione said in her best authoritative voice, "and I'm a Prefect."

"You didn't have to cut your meal short on my account," she said apologetically. "The Nargles would have kept me company!"

She viewed the otherwise Nargle-free room with disdain. "Indeed."

"What am I doing this evening?" she asked brightly.

"Professor Slughorn wants you to scrub the slime off of his office floor," she said. "He says a gillyweed water tonic he was brewing for personal use exploded when he left for the loo. Apparently there's quite a lot."

"Without magic, I assume?"

"Correct."

She grinned. "I'd better get started, then. Will you stay and talk to me while I clean, Hermione?"

Hermione paused and looked at Luna's silver eyes, the color of clear ice. She felt a shiver in her heart. "Why not?" she asked. "Get started, though – or you'll be scrubbing clear to morning!"

Luna smiled.

A/N:

Previous: Gryffindor VS Slytherin

Next: Girl Talk

" _A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human_ _morality_ " - Winston Churchill


	5. Girl Talk

A/N: The fifth installment.

Girl Talk

"And Ron can be such an _arse_ sometimes, it makes me want to wring his stupid neck! The other day, see, he was waiting for me in the Common Room, holding out his half-finished Potions essay as if he _expected_ me to fix and finish it! You'd think one of those boys would have some common sense. But honestly, Harry's _hardly_ any better. He asks for help, which is lovely, but he still expects it, which is rubbish!"

The sound of bristles moving against wet stone filled the dungeon room. "Why, how awful!"

"I know! It just drives me _mad_. It isn't as if I haven't got other things to do!"

"Like what, Hermione?"

There isn't a reply.

"Hermione? What other things do you do besides study?"

"I…"

"How about S.P.E.W?"

"Yes! S.P.E.W! Another pastime of mine that Harry and Ron incessantly make rubbish of! They're constantly saying, 'Hermione, that _spew_ nonsense isn't going anywhere! The House Elves _want_ to be enslaved, Hermione! There's no point to _spew_!' They don't even bother to pronounce my organization's name properly." She sniffed, and the sound of bristles against stone slowed, then stopped.

"I think it's lovely, what you're doing. I've been hearing a little about it since the last Quidditch World Cup, but I didn't know who to talk to about joining up."

"R…Really? You're interested in promoting Elfish welfare?"

"Of course. Isn't this the same as the way families like the Malfoy's treat Muggle-Born Witches and Wizards? We need to start equality through small victories. No one deserves to be treated like less than they really are."

The sound of cleaning began once more, and Hermione's whispered words were almost lost in the noise. " _Thank you, Luna_."

Luna Lovegood smiled.

A/N:

Previous: An Evening Scrubbing Slime

Next: Risky Weekends in Hogsmeade Streets

" _Be the change that you wish to see in the world_." ― Mahatma Gandhi


	6. Risky Weekends in Hogsmeade Streets

A/N: Sixth installment.

Risky Weekends in Hogsmeade Streets

Despite her very best efforts, pleas, and threats, Harry and Ron refused to attend Hermione's S.P.E.W meeting at the Hogshead.

"You are the _treasurer_ and _secretary_!" she had snapped. All the same, it made no difference: she was off down the long, winding dirt path in the cool, fall air all by herself, determined to walk through the door not a _nanosecond_ past four. Padding footsteps caught up to her, and she glanced over to see Luna, nearly seven homemade hats on her head and several awkwardly strung scarves in her hands. Her radish earrings were lost in the yarn.

"Hullo, Hermione," she said brightly. "I'm very excited to be a part of the liberation of House Elves. Look, I made some clothes we can give them!" She proudly presented the goods.

Hermione smiled. "Yes, thank you, Luna. Aren't you warm wearing those hats, though? It's getting colder, but it's still the hottest part of the day."

She shook her head. "I'm quite all right! My body temperature is lower than average, so it's only a _little_ warm. Who else is coming to today's meeting?"

"Neville," she admitted. The silence said _that's it_ for her.

"How lovely," she said dreamily, keeping Hermione's brisk pace as she looked into the sky. "You've amassed such a large following already!"

"I wouldn't say-"

"Today, Hogwarts, tomorrow the w-!"

"Luna, look out!"

A large crowd of foreign-looking wizards with heavy accents turned the corner directly into their path, and Hermione had just enough time grab the Ravenclaw before they were trampled into the dirt. When she opened her eyes, they were looking right into hers.

She ignored the heartbeat.

A/N:

Previous: Girl Talk

Next: S.P.E.W

" _Nothing betrays a man like the beat of his heart, the pulse of his wrist._ " – Jacob Patrick


	7. SPEW

A/N: Seventh installment.

S.P.E.W

It isn't a game.

"Hermione? Are you quite well?"

The young witch paused as she was leaning over, her fingertips inches away from picking up one of the hats that had been knocked off of Luna's head. Was she quite well? She hardly knew.

"Would you like to go back to your dorm?" Luna asked, putting a warm hang on her shoulder.

Hermione cringed – unintentionally, but there was a flicker of recognition in Luna's eyes, and her hand slowly slid off of Hermione's coat. She hadn't meant to cringe. It was just… "You'd best be careful, Luna," she said as casually as possible, snatching the hat up and putting it in Luna's hands. "Try to watch were you're going, or I'll end up on top of you again!"

Luna didn't respond.

She cleared her throat. "Shall we get to the Hogshead? No sense in keeping Neville waiting!"

"Are you and Ron Weasley dating?"

She froze.

"I imagine with all the work you two do for S.P.E.W, you'd be very close. It's a good cause, and good causes bring people together."

"…We're not dating."

And that was the end of it.

Neither girl looks at or speaks to one another the whole way to the Hogshead. Try as she might, Hermione couldn't bring herself to wonder why Luna had asked that. She just kept feeling her hand on her shoulder.

It isn't a game.

A/N:

Previous: Risky Weekends in Hogsmeade Streets

Next: Vice-Official Loony Lovegood


	8. Vice-Official Loony Lovegood

A/N: Installment eight. EDIT: I fixed the random shift of perspectives. Sorry. Writing another fic in second person, and I got it confused with this one because they're both in present-tense. Fixed.

Vice-Official Loony Lovegood

Neville is pleased to see Luna has joined the cause, and the meeting starts off without a hitch.

"Three Butterbeers, please," Hermione orders. The bartender reaches for the grimy glass mugs beneath the sink. "Uh, we brought our own," she adds quickly, producing three clean mugs. He fills them without a word; she pays, and returns to the table.

"How is liberating the house elves that work in the kitchens going?" she asks.

"Not great," Neville admits. "Every time they see me now, they vanish away. They know I'm trying to give them hats."

Hermione sighs. "That's not good. If only Harry and Ron were here today, I'm sure they'd have some ideas…"

"Why force them to take the hats?" Luna asked suddenly.

They look at her.

"At this stage, they don't know they're being oppressed, and they actually like working, right?"

"Luna," Hermione begins exasperatedly, "If you're here to tell me that we shouldn't act-"

"The elves respond positively to making their masters happy," she continues without a breath. "So if we could convince them, and perhaps Professor McGonagall, that it would make us happy to have them as _employees_ and not servants, maybe we could start small? Like, by giving them bi-weekly wages…?"

Hermione is surprised. She hadn't thought of that before.

"That's a fantastic idea, Luna," Neville said, nodding. "Um, who wants to talk to Professor McGonagall and who wants to talk to the house elves?"

"I'll talk to McGonagall," Hermione volunteers. "If the house elves see me coming, they'll run away. Luna, you should do that – they haven't seen you yet, so you have the biggest chance of getting them to listen."

Her face brightens up. "Really? How wonderful! So, am I officially a member of S.P.E.W?"

She pauses. "Of course," she says. "I'll even give you an official title, if you want one!"

"Oh, please!"

"Let's see," she begins, "Harry is the secretary, Ron is the treasurer, Neville is the operations officer…"

Luna holds her breath in anticipation.

"You are… the Vice…Official of the society." She nods. "Yes, Vice-Official Luna Lovegood. Your job is to promote welfare, organize events, and other official business."

She pulled the title from thin air – anyone could see it was stupid. But Luna positively beams. She's very happy, and she tells Hermione so. "It's even better because it's a job from you!" she cries.

She finds herself staring at her, once again.

She catches her eye, and Hermione looks away to take a hasty sip of Butterbeer.

A/N:

Previous: S.P.E.W

Next: Mischievous Midnight


End file.
